Janus
by icy roses
Summary: One-shot, Percabeth. Janus, the god of doorways, beginnings, endings. Choices. They can change a life. They can cause a death. And they can spark something more. What choices have Percy and Annabeth made?


A/N: To the readers of my Inuyasha fanfiction, sorry if this is not what you were expecting when you got an email. I am working on Chapter 5 of "Something Ever After." This is my small treat when taking a break. I doubt any of you are Percy Jackson fans, but if you aren't, YOU SHOULD BE. This is a lovely book series I recently discovered. Please check it out.

To the readers of PJO fanfiction: this is four "vignettes" (I use that loosely, since each vignette ended up being monstrous) in alternating Percy and Annabeth views. The first is from "The Lightning Thief," the second "Sea of Monsters," etc. It is Percabeth, but only a little bit, as I tried to make it seem semi-realistic. This is about the important choices that were made during each book. Hence the title: Janus. The second part is my favorite because I just think it's so romantic how Percy jumped off the ship to save Annabeth. Adorable. Please review, because I would like some feedback regarding how this turned out, and whether I should do more. Enjoy.

Disclaimer: I do not own PJO. But I do wish I owned Percy Jackson. He is so cute. :-)

--------------------------------------------

His mother gleams before him, a golden statue, stunning, he thinks, but she would have been that much more beautiful if she were alive, and he could touch her. He looks toward Hades and a fire-hot hatred burns through his body. _You took my mother. Let her go._ Hades only laughs darkly, and Percy wonders how kidnapping and ransoming someone's mother could ever be cause for laughter. This was his _Uncle_.

"Ah the pearls," he says, still amused. "Bring them forth, Percy Jackson."

The single remnant of hope extinguishes in his heart. Full of dread, he presents them in his palm.

_Each one saves a single life._ "Choose," says Hades nonchalantly, as if the choice were between chocolate and vanilla, or cherries and strawberries, and not the task of leaving someone for dead. But what did the gods understand about dying, after all?

He looks toward his mother desperately, wishing she could speak, only for a few seconds to offer some sort of council. He can't leave her behind. _Won't._

To his horror, Grover offers to stay behind. "I'll just be reincarnated as a flower or something. It's the best way," his best friend says lightly, his voice cracking only at the very end.

Before Percy can cut him off, Annabeth throws her life into the ring as well. "I plan to go down fighting." He stares at her in utter disbelief, but his lips aren't working, and he wants to say, don't go down at all. Please. Her grey eyes show nothing but resolute determination, and although the world is crashing down at the moment, he can't help but stop and admire her gutsiness.

Grover argues with her, and they go back and forth until Percy can't stand it anymore, this tug-of-war. "Stop it, both of you!" he snaps, harsher than he means to. It's just that this choice is utterly unfair. It would take an eternity to make, but Hades is waiting, his impatient fingers on his throne go _tap, tap, tap_.

Percy closes his eyes and knows what he must do, although his stomach feels like lead. He hands out a pearl to each of his friends. For a wild moment, he considers throwing the last pearl to his mother, her disapproval be damned, but he swallows hard and clenches the silky orb in his fist.

He wishes he could throw something hard and pointed at his smug uncle's face, but decides against it, promises to find the lost Helm, and says sorry to his mother, deaf to his apologies. "Now!" he shouts, and it is a miracle that the word comes out clear and strong. They smash the pearls at their feet. And there is a second where he savagely wishes he had chosen something else, but it passes, and he knows he did right.

-

She looks to him for confirmation, and he nods. The bonds are tight. She can feel the ropes cutting into her waist, so tight she finds it a little hard to breathe. But they are necessary. The island is approaching, and her exhilaration increases. She imagines herself like a female Odysseus, braving the treacherous Sirens' song to become wiser. It's an adventure. An adventure of the mind, her favorite kind.

He still shoots her a facial expression that says, "You're crazy for doing this," and she sticks her tongue out. What would Poseidon's brash son know about seeking knowledge? His head was full of kelp. But she notices that he keeps sending nervous glances backward, like he is afraid that she will suddenly disappear. She smiles a little to reassure him. She will be fine. She is the daughter of Athena, and a prideful secret in her heart tells her that she will be able to withstand what a weak man like Odysseus could not. She will not be tempted by illusions.

Then melody reaches her ears, the sweetest thing she's ever heard. It sounds like her delighted laughter when she was three, her father tickling her. It sounds like her aloof mother's approval in her ears. It sounds like Luke's voice, telling her that he will keep her safe forever. She grows drunk on the music, straining to hear it more clearly. Disdainfully, she sees the cords strapping her to the mast of the ship, holding her back from the Sirens' promise.

The music calls to her, and she yearns to go to it. Alas, the ropes are as strong as ever. She weeps. Please, she thinks, I will do anything to listen to this dream forever. Percy turns away from the wheel for the first time, and his face is full of anguish. "Please!" she says, but the earplugs hold. "Let me go!" He shakes his head sadly.

"You are cruel." The tears roll down her face one after the other. Stiffly, he faces away from her again. "I hate you!" she screams so loudly that she fears her throat will tear.

Ecstatically, she remembers the bronze dagger at her side. Her hand wriggles to reach it. Yes! She saws at the ropes viciously, and they snap.

Without so much as a second thought, she drops the dagger and dives into the sea. It's colder than she expects. In the back of her mind, the thought comes that she hates the sea and can't believe she's swimming in its dreadfulness. But the song strengthens its grasp on her, and now, she can think of nothing else. It fills her ears and begins to weave a brilliant dream for her eyes, lovelier than any of Athena's own tapestries.

The chill of the water melts away. A marble city rises before her, a marvel greater than Olympus itself. A thought strikes her that _she_ built this city, every stunning intricacy. Better yet, she sees her father, welcoming her with a grin, holding hands with her mother, whose face shows the greatest contentment and pride in her daughter. Luke sits next to him, whole and good, radiating happiness. The tears pool in her eyes again, but this time, they are tears of joy. She is in heaven.

So complete is her bliss that she barely notices someone grabbing her leg. But she does notice when she is pulled ungraciously underwater, the saltiness choking her. She gags, and the vision abruptly disappears, replaced by Percy's face. Why is he here? There is no time to question him, because her head goes above water again, and the glorious picture repaints itself.

This time there is a merest seed of doubt in her head. Is this what she really wants? Percy's face flashes across her mind, and she doesn't know why, but she is troubled. His green eyes bore into her soul, demanding why she's left him. "This isn't real, Annabeth," he insists. "Do you want to live a lie?"

She wants to tell him off, that stupid Seaweed Brain. Luke's love seems plenty real to her.

"I'm leaving," Percy says shortly, and rapidly, he begins to fade away.

"Wait!" she says, surprised at the urgency in her voice. "Don't go!"

He is almost gone, and she is chasing him, and then all of a sudden, she is jerked out of this dream world, and Percy is hauling her into the depths of the sea. The pressure is crushing her, and she can't breathe. Her head is shrieking, "Do you want to kill me, you idiot?" but all that comes out of her mouth are bubbles. Just when she thinks she is going to implode, she feels the water around her draining away. Her reflexes kick in, and she gasps, grateful as delicious air fills her lungs.

When she opens her eyes, she is in a huge air bubble with Percy, and his presence makes her cry in relief. He pulls her to him, and he is warm and dry, and he is _here_, and she knows he will never leave her to die; he will drag her back from the gates of Hades if that's what it comes to. And she is crying, soaking his waterproof sea-god shoulder. She is glad he did not let her choose the Sirens' song. She was so close.

Her body shakes so badly that he has to hold her tight to keep her still. And in this precious minute, it's like they're the only two people in the whole world.

-

He dreams of her when he sleeps. Sometimes, being a half-blood is the worst, because it means few nights of rest and many nights of torturous visions. In his dreams, she is being crushed by a heavy dark ceiling. She is dying. He tries to run to her, to take the weight off her shoulders, but his legs are frozen. It's Luke's fault, he knows. Luke betrayed her, and she trusted him!

His jaw hurts in the mornings from grinding his teeth.

The Oracle gives him no prophecy, even though he begs for one. Instead, the rotten old mummy climbs down from the cellar, walks all the way across camp, and recites a prophecy for _Zoe_, that smug, know-it-all Huntress who hates boys for no reason_._ Zoe gets the quest. He knows that Artemis is an important goddess, and her disappearance disturbs him too, but right now, all the Olympians plus some would not be enough to make him care.

And no word on Annabeth. Stupid Oracle.

A meeting is called to form the group for the quest. He suggests three Hunters and two campers, only fair. Zoe picks the three Hunters, and then Grover and Thalia volunteer as the two campers.

Suddenly, Percy is aware that he has been ousted from this quest, this quest that he _needs_ to go on. Zoe refuses to travel anywhere with a boy point blank, looking at him as if he has cooties that he is purposely trying to share with her. The problem is settled then. He isn't a part of the quest.

Stupid Zoe.

Of course, Chiron, Mr. D., Zoe, camp rules, and whatever else standing in his way are not enough to keep him away from embarking on the journey anyway. With some help from Blackjack, he follows the team, and even helps them defeat the Nemean Lion. Zoe reluctantly accepts him. He grins to himself in satisfaction.

After going all this way and braving so many dangers, they are stopped in the desert for the night.

And the last thing he expected was to get a visit from Ares, the most obnoxious and cowardly of the Olympian gods. And now he is sitting dumbly in a white limo with the goddess Aphrodite, and he is totally lost for words. She giggles like a schoolgirl, but somehow manages to be stunning regardless. She seems to think he is adorable, and in any other circumstance, he would find that annoying, but she is the exception.

Aphrodite is gushing to him about something, but he can hardly concentrate on the words coming out of her perfect mouth. "Why are you on this quest?" she asks, and he has to run the words several times through his brain before he understands.

"I don't know." She smiles at him with her dimples, like he is a precocious toddler.

Why is he on this quest? The answer is obvious, and he isn't about to say it out loud to her until it tumbles unbidden from his lips anyway. "Annabeth is in trouble."

She beams, like he's finally gotten an answer right. She continues talking excitedly about how he is going to make a wonderful love story, and she can't wait to see what happens and what not. She instructs him to keep looking for Annabeth. Then, with one last dazzling smile, she lets him out of the car, and he is in a daze.

He sits down in the sand for a minute, trying to get a grasp on what just happened. Aphrodite just told him to follow his heart and rescue the damsel in distress. The first thing that comes to mind is that Annabeth would hate to be called a damsel in distress and no doubt berate him for weeks if he ever called her that. He can't help but chuckle at that thought.

Follow his heart…

Shaking his head bemusedly, he stands up and heads toward the Taco restaurant where his friends are waiting for him. He didn't need a personal visit from the goddess of love to tell him what to do. His mind was made up when he forced his way into this quest, when the dreams first started coming to him. There wasn't any choice to begin with, he thinks. He didn't need a Cupid's arrow to point him in the right direction. It wasn't…love. It was…

He decides to stop contemplating it before his face catches fire.

Stupid Aphrodite. What did she know?

-

The labyrinth twisted and turned cleverly, making her furious and questioning her judgment. She looks back and sees Percy, Grover, and Tyson following her, trusting her. She wouldn't let them down.

They find themselves in a Roman tile room, and there is a strange monster standing at the fork of two doorways.

She hears her heart clunking to an unsteady stop. _No, it can't be time yet. We've only just begun,_ she thinks frantically. But she stares at the two faces jutting from one head, and knows it has to be.

_Janus._ God of doorways, beginnings, endings. Choices.

"Well, Annabeth? Hurry up!" says one of the faces. The other one smirks like it is taunting her on purpose.

She glances at Percy and almost laughs at the confusion so evident on his face. He never was up on his Greek mythology, and she scolded him often for it.

She turns back to Janus. "The exits are closed," she says, not very brightly.

"Duh!" Janus's left face mocks.

"Where do they lead?"

"One probably leads the way you wish to go. The other leads to certain death," the right face says matter-of-factly.

She bites her lip nervously. She can tell that this choice has little to do with doors, and more to do with the battle inside her that has been raging ever since she received the prophecy from the Oracle. And…she isn't ready to make the choice. Her throat constricts and threatens to choke her.

_And lose a love to worse than death._ What does it mean? She can't even bear to think. "How is this a choice?" she wants to scream. Janus's faces only grin enigmatically, enjoying her pain. She wishes that she at least had a few hours to think about it, but it wouldn't really have made a difference. She'd still be sitting in indecision at the end of a year.

How can she bear to lose either of them?

Luke saved her life when she was seven. Of course she loves him; of course she wants him to come back safe. Of course she'll never give up on him. Percy would never understand. Luke is good, she insists in her head. He'll see the error of his ways. She can't afford to give up on him now. She can't sentence him to a fate worse than death. She'd never forgive herself.

Unwillingly, she steals a glimpse of the other one. Percy. He's still gazing at Janus, that expression he always gets when he's puzzling something over in his brain. She's learned to recognize it easily now, since they've been together for so long. He suddenly looks supremely angry and says, "Leave her alone!" to the god, entirely unconcerned with angering a divine being. He's done it many times before.

She almost cries at that. He is always trying to protect her, trying to save the world. But he can't help her now. He is so _good_. Right now, she hates herself. She knew, when she heard the prophecy, that she shouldn't have let him come. She is selfish, selfish. She knew that the last line…was about him. How could it not be?

Janus's eyes are fixed on her, telling her that she has a choice. It can be whoever she wills it to be.

Inside is a resolution. _I am not giving up on Luke. I never will._ It grows within her. _I will not betray him._

"I choose—"

Hera appears in a blinding flash of light, and Annabeth watches, melting in relief, as the Queen of the Gods orders Janus away.

Annabeth goes through "teatime" with Hera robotically, drinking in the view of her friends sitting around the table, wolfing down sandwiches. She periodically glances at Percy and resists attacking him with a fierce hug. Before Hera disappears again, she says, "I have postponed your day of choice. I have not prevented it"—Annabeth's heart sinks—"and soon, as Janus said, you _will_ have to make a decision. Farewell!"

Hera is gone. And Annabeth is furious. She stamps her foot and complains about some rubbish that the goddess—not the important part. Her friends buy it, and with her leading, they head off again.

Inside, she is thinking miserably that the choice is made. Janus will not come for her again. She tries hard not to start crying—she has done that too many times in front of Percy already—and says sorry over and over again in her head, knowing that no matter how many times she apologizes, it will never make her decision okay.

The choice was impossible, the worst. She will hate Janus for the rest of her life. But she knows there was only one thing she could choose, and no matter how long she spent agonizing, it would come down to the same result.

She will not betray Luke. She loves him still. And she would hope for him to come to the right side. In the meantime, she sadly says a silent goodbye.

It would break her heart to lose him. Her heart was breaking now. But broken hearts could mend.

If she lost Percy, she'd—

That's right, she thinks, stop right there. _No need to explore where that's going._

Still, he is running next to her, and when he looks over, their eyes meet, electrifying, and she smiles small.


End file.
